


War Wounds

by marleymars



Series: Attachment Theory [4]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, and feelings, levi being a dick, more porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 02:58:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marleymars/pseuds/marleymars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Irwin has conflicting feelings about the young man he's been taking to his bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you guys like this one because I didn't even want to post it. It's from Irwin's POV and it was just really hard to write, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. Irwin is a real pain in the ass, gdi.

The numbers on his phone informed him it was two forty-one in the morning. He had woken to the sound of it buzzing on his bedside table, and reached automatically for the device. It wasn’t unusual for some dire emergency to occur when he wasn’t around to handle it, and this certainly wouldn’t be the first time it had happened while the rest of the world slept. Resigning himself to a wakeful night, he accepted the call, and held the phone to his ear. “Yes.”

“We need to talk.”

“Levi, it’s the middle of the night.”

“I’m aware of that. Now come buzz me in, it’s fucking cold out here.” The call ended with a blip, and Irwin groaned as he sat up; his back was stiff, and with good reason. He exercised at least three times a week in order to maintain his physical condition, but his recent... _exertions_ were taking their toll. To his left there was a soft breath, and he looked down as Armin rolled over in his sleep, causing the bedsprings to creak. He snaked a thin arm out, making another faint noise as he sought the source of heat he’d lost when Irwin moved away. All that Irwin cared about was that he didn’t wake up, at least not until this urgent matter of Levi’s was taken care of.

A robe hung on the back of the door to the master bath, and he swung it around his shoulders. Levi couldn’t have cared less if he’d met with him in his underclothes, but Irwin believed in maintaining an appropriate level of decorum with his underlings. Before he turned to leave the room he stopped just long enough to pull the coverlet up over Armin’s shoulders. The penthouse was temperature controlled, but it was chilly in his bedroom.

“Took you long enough, Irwin,” Levi grumbled as he stalked through the front door, reaching up to loosen his scarf with that bland scowl that seemed permanently etched onto his face. As long as Irwin had known him he almost always appeared to be in a foul mood. Moments of placidity were few and far between, though they did occur every so often.

“What was so urgent that it couldn’t wait until the morning?” he asked, ignoring the bad-tempered remark.

“I have some information regarding the matter you asked me to look into, and I felt it required immediate attention. In person,” Levi said as he made his way over to the sofa. Irwin followed, and took a seat on the adjacent armchair.

“Well?”

“There’s definitely somebody leaking our sensitive data to an outside buyer.” Irwin considered this, folding his hands together underneath his chin as his mind worked. Without waiting for him to ask for further explanation, Levi continued, “I’ve been having our IT guys run tracking software, but they’ve only been able to uncover trace evidence. It’s enough to confirm our suspicions, but not enough to pin down a specific source. Whoever is selling our information knows how to cover their tracks, or is working for somebody who does.”

“And that could be any of a number of people.”

“Precisely.” Irwin closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose. This was a problem.

“You’ll do better,” he said.

Levi snorted, “When you say it like that it makes it sound like a simple matter.”

“We can’t allow this to continue, Levi.”

“Of course not. I know that, and I’m handling it. I have people in the company working to sniff out the mole. Sooner or later they’ll make a mistake, and then—,”

“We’ll put an end to them,” Irwin finished for him, tone rigid.

“Ah, it gives me chills when you speak so forcefully,” Levi said, scowl never once wavering.

“Do you have anything else of import to tell me?” the CEO asked, straightening up in his chair.

“Not at the moment, no,” Levi said, “But it’s early yet.”

Irwin sighed and nodded. Ignoring the twinge in his back, he twisted slightly in his chair and glanced over toward the unlit hallway that lead to the bedroom. “Armin, if you’re through eavesdropping then you ought to join us.” A shadow jumped, detaching itself from the darkness, and a moment later the blond slowly emerged. Though he wore a look of chagrin, he offered no apology or denial. He had been caught, and he accepted it without needless backpedaling.

Levi twisted in his seat, lips pursing when he laid eyes on the young man standing behind the couch with his arms behind his back, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boxer shorts. “Well, Irwin. Isn’t this an interesting occasion.”

“Levi, this is Armin. Armin, this is Levi Rivaille, my chief officer of operations,” Irwin said, noting the way Armin brought his arms up, folding them over his chest as if he were hugging himself.

“Nice to meet you,” Armin said, regarding the stoic man with an uncertain sidelong look.

“Is it?” Levi stood and walked around the sofa. The blond seemed to stand up a little straighter when he noticed he was taller than Levi, though he didn’t look any less uncomfortable. “He’s a cute one, Irwin,” the surly COO noted, “Where did you find him?”

“Levi,” Irwin said with a warning edge.

“I hope he’s clean, at the very least. Can’t have you going around contracting diseases from filthy little boy-whores.” Clearly Levi had wildly misread the situation; Irwin got to his feet, preparing to intervene if Armin reacted poorly.

As it turned out, he needn’t have bothered. “If you’re worried about me being unclean then I’d refrain from sitting on the couch again,” the blond said, tone wry. Irwin was positioned in such a way that he was able to see the immediate look of disgust that flashed across Levi’s face.

“The brat’s got a sharp tongue, too,” the diminutive man sneered, “Make sure you don’t cut your cock on it, Smith.”

“Levi, that’s quite enough,” Irwin said, “If you don’t have anything else for me, then I really would like to get back to bed.”

“I’m sure you would,” Levi huffed, expression returning to normal. “I’ll see you at work, Irwin. And I’d burn that couch if I were you.” He wrapped his scarf back around his neck, and made his way toward the door. Armin watched with a scornful expression until the lock clicked back into place behind him.

“He seems pleasant,” the blond said as soon as he deigned it was safe. He didn’t bother to inquire as to whether it was alright for Levi to know about them. Armin was perceptive enough to know that if Irwin had let him be seen, then it must have been fine. When they had agreed to a certain level of secrecy pertaining to their relationship, Armin had agreed more readily than he’d been expecting. “My friends are really protective of me,” was the only explanation he’d given to that end.

“He has his moments,” Irwin agreed. He walked over to where the younger man stood and placed his hands on a set of lean shoulders. Bright blue eyes met his own, clear and focused despite the late hour, as usual. “You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping on us.”

Armin uncrossed his arms and reached up to rest his hands on Irwin’s chest. “I didn’t do it on purpose,” he said, never breaking eye contact with the older man. “I just got up to see where you’d gone, and then I didn’t want to intrude, so…” He shrugged. Still no apology, and honestly Irwin didn’t expect one.

“Go back to sleep, Armin,” he said, nodding back toward the bedroom.

“What about you?”

“I have work to do.”

“At three in the morning?”

“I work when I have to,” Irwin told him, sliding a hand up to the blond’s chin and tilting his head back. He kissed him chastely, then repeated, “Go back to sleep.”

“Fine,” Armin sighed with just the slightest pout. It turned into a yawn, and he hobbled away down the hall with his hand over his mouth.

“Don’t let the dog on the bed with you,” Irwin called after him, knowing it would do no good. Armin had a way of shirking every rule Irwin placed in front of him, and he did so with surprisingly little effort.

He waited until he was certain the younger man had at least returned to the bedroom, then he followed, making a right turn into a door halfway down the hallway. When he clicked the light on it washed his home office in stark, unwelcoming light. There was no need for the room to be comfortable, and it wasn’t. Only the chair behind the desk was tailored to conform to his body, as was the one at his office at work. That was simply to ensure that he didn’t succumb to the back problems that came with sitting at a desk for hours on end, as recommended by his physician.

Now that Levi had confirmed what Irwin had already been mostly certain of, there were several things he had to ensure. False trails to lay, so to speak. Whoever this insider was, they were looking for certain types of information. Mostly where money was being directed from what he’d been able to glean so far; what projects they were currently funding, and what their financial projections were. All of it was potentially damaging information if it were to fall into the wrong hands. A competitor could use the details to undercut and commandeer Titan Enterprises.

The work took the rest of the hours left until the sun began to creep up over the horizon. There were dozens of emails, inquiries into things he wasn’t truly interested in, memos that were outright fabrications. Nobody would wonder that he’d done all this in the middle of the night—he often worked after hours, drawing admiration from those who approved of his tireless efforts. If only his board of directors was as enthusiastic. Comprised mostly of appointees left over from the time his father had been in charge of things, they more often than not did everything in their power to undermine him. Thanks in no small part to Levi, he was usually able to thwart them.

As the sun came up, he pushed away from his desk and made his way wearily into the bathroom to get ready for the day. By the time he was showered and fully dressed it was nearly time to leave. He had worked longer than he’d planned, and there was no time to eat. He would have to send his assistant out for coffee, but the boy was willing enough to please in that respect.

He was adjusting his tie in the bathroom mirror when Armin made another appearance. There was a flicker of movement in the reflective glass, and he could see the young man leaning in the doorway, watching him with those observant eyes. When he had first seen the little blond it had been on something of a stressful day for him. The board had just finished dressing him down for what they branded “poor financial planning,” and he had left work early in order to collect his thoughts. As he’d headed toward the car park, crossing a decorative square in front of his building, he’d spotted a young man sobbing uncontrollably on a dirty wooden bench.

Every instinct told him to keep walking, but he’d experienced a moment of pity. Whether or not that had been a mistake had yet to be seen. In all honesty he had not initially planned on sleeping with Armin. The boy’s big blue eyes and delicate appearance had been all too familiar of the sort of overeager men he usually brought to his bed. Those encounters were singular, and they needed to be; there was no better way to disillusion somebody who obviously only wanted to please him for their own gain than cutting things off immediately. He had quickly found that in Armin’s case at least, looks could be deceiving.

It was a lesson he’d learned years ago, but it had been a while since he’d dealt with somebody in or outside of work who wasn’t outright selfish and conniving. Armin was clever, though; it was in those sharp, knowing eyes, and he wasn’t pandering or compliant just for the sake of being so. When he submitted it was because _he_ wanted to, and not just to satisfy Irwin. It made the older man want to _possess_ him, to _dominate_ him, but not to tame or subdue him. If Armin became one of those timid men who let him do as he pleased without offering him any challenge, then he was sure he would quickly lose interest.

“Yes?” Irwin said to the watching figure as his dog lumbered through the open door, yawning and whining as he leaned against Armin’s leg.

“Can we talk about something?” the younger man asked, eyes seeking Irwin’s in the reflection.

“I’m going to be late for work.”

“You own the whole company. What’re they gonna do, fire you?”

Irwin sighed and turned, leaning back against the counter to face the blond. “Alright. What do you want to talk about?”

“It’s just…,” he paused, looking up at the ceiling as he gathered his thoughts, “If we’re going to keep doing this, then I think we should talk about what we are.”

“How do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

Irwin matched his gaze, and gave it a moment of thought. As far as he was concerned, their current arrangement was working out just fine, and had been for the past several weeks. Armin warmed his bed several nights a week, and was slowly trying to usurp the affections of his dog. It wasn’t the sort of thing that would last forever, or even very long, but he planned on enjoying it while he could. “If you’re asking me for a romantic relationship then I would have to suggest you find someone your own age.”

“That’s not what I was saying,” Armin said with a scornful huff, “I just wanted to know what you would call…this.” He made a back and forth motion with his hand, gesturing between the two of them.

Armin watched intently as the older man pushed away from the counter and crossed the room, pausing only inches away from him. “You can call it whatever you like, Armin,” he said, “Just don’t confuse it with something deeper than it truly is.” He watched as the little blond seemed to process this, lowering his gaze as he mulled it over. If he objected, if he wanted anything more than Irwin was prepared to give him then it would be best for him to end it right now. Not that he would enjoy calling things off, but Irwin was a man who did what was necessary.

“Alright,” Armin said slowly, nodding to himself, “Good. I’m glad we got that settled. Now get out, I have to pee.” There was a moment then, a brief flash of something going across the blond’s face, and if Irwin hadn’t known any better he’d have said it was an expression of intense calculation. Then it was gone and so was Armin, locking himself in the bathroom where his face could not be seen at all.

He was back in bed by the time Irwin finished getting ready, curled up next to Romulus and fast asleep. “I hope you don’t think this means you can get on the furniture whenever you like,” Irwin said. The big mutt just gave him an innocent look and rested his giant head on Armin’s feet. At least if he was being spoiled rotten, it was by somebody who knew how to handle him. Aside from his show handler and Irwin himself, there weren’t many people who were willing to try.

As soon as he arrived at the corporate offices of Titan Enterprises he was met with a barrage of paperwork, mostly inquiries and other minor things that his immediate subordinates were too indecisive to handle. He spent half the morning simply reading and signing requisitions and legal documents, and when he ordered his coffee his assistant was only too willing to get a chance to do something useful for him. Bertholdt was a curious young man, unusually lacking in any major personality traits. At times he seemed unmotivated and reticent, but he would do whatever Irwin asked of him and that was really all that mattered.

It was just past noon when he was thinking that he should eat something and dubiously regarding his slowly dwindling stack of paperwork that the intercom on his desk buzzed. “Uh, sir?” Bertholdt sounded uncertain, vexed even, which was so out of character for him that Irwin immediately reached over and pressed the button to respond.

“Yes?”

“There’s, ah, somebody here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment, and security says they have no idea how he even got up here. Should I have him escorted out?”

“Does this person have a name?”

“He says his name is Armin?”

Irwin took a moment to close his eyes, collecting himself before pushing the intercom button again. “Let him in.”

“O-okay, sir.”

Armin pushed open the office door and raised his eyebrows, apparently impressed. “Wow,” he said, “Nice office.” The room was decorated only for the sake of keeping up appearances. The opulent accessories—including paintings, vases, a small, stocked bar, and several exotic potted flora—were all for show. Irwin had allowed Levi to decorate for him, as he had really seen no difference in leaving it all bare. “You’ve heard the term ‘dress to impress?’ The same principle applies to your office. People will expect—and be impressed by—extravagance because they’re idiots,” his officer of operations had told him with the air of someone explaining something to a child. That, of course, had been years ago.

“What are you doing here, Armin?” he asked, and the boy crossed the room, holding out a Styrofoam cup to him over the top of his desk.

“I brought you a coffee.”

“I’m the CEO of a multinational corporation. Do you think I can’t afford my own coffee?”

“Yeah, but this is good coffee. You know, the kind that us regular people drink.” Armin sloshed the beverage around in its cup, and Irwin accepted the drink with a sigh. “Besides, it’s the thought that counts.”

“How did you get past security?”

“I just walked past them. Nobody stopped me.”

“No?”

“Nope. I have a technique.”

“Care to elaborate?” Armin grinned, and circled around his desk, hopping up onto the edge so that he was sitting almost directly in front of the older man.

“If you act like you belong where you are, like you’re not doing anything wrong, then people will assume it’s true. I’ve snuck into lots of places, and I’ve only been stopped a handful of times.” He said this without any sense of smug superiority—it was all just fact, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t being boastful.

“You continue to surprise me, Armin,” Irwin said, and the blond gave him a pleased smirk and a waggle of his eyebrows. The CEO shook his head—he would have to delegate somebody to address that little lapse in security, though he doubted many others possessed the gumption to simply waltz right into the building. Armin, it seemed, did whatever he felt he could get away with.

“So,” the blond said, glancing over his shoulder at the neatly arranged papers spread across Irwin’s desk, “What’re you working on?”

“Evaluating our shareholder value maximization.”

“Wow. That sounds really boring,” Armin said, looking disappointed.

“What were you expecting?”

“I dunno. I was hoping you’d open up your giant vault of money and we could swim around in it.” Irwin cocked an eyebrow at him, and he said, “You know, like Scrooge McDuck? Duck Tales? He had a huge vault of money and he would…never mind.”

“Is this from a cartoon?”

“Yes, you uncultured swine.” Irwin motioned for him to move, and he slid off the desk, taking up a position leaning against his chair instead.

“You’re only going to continue to be bored if you hang around here,” the CEO informed him. It was a not-so-subtle direction for him to leave, but unsurprisingly it went ignored.

“I don’t have anything else to do,” Armin said, slipping an arm around his shoulders as Irwin reached for his wireless mouse. “This is a pretty sweet setup. Is that a touch screen?” he asked, pointing to the computer monitor with the hand that wasn’t fiddling with Irwin’s lapel.

“Yes,” the businessman said. Armin was leaning into him, and the feeling of that warm, lean body against his brought up memories of heat and friction.

“Er, should I be looking at this?” the blond said as Irwin brought up his work email, eyeing the screen, and then the documents spread across his desk.

“That depends,” Irwin said, “Are you the corporate spy that’s been siphoning off my company’s private information?”

“Yes.” Armin maintained a straight face for approximately three seconds, then he grinned again. “You caught me.”

“Levi was right,” Irwin said as he scrolled through a meandering email from his financial officer.

“How so?”

“You are a brat.”

Armin made a scandalized noise, and gave Irwin a shove. “I am nothing less than a pleasure to be around,” he countered.  His fingers moved from the collar of the businessman’s suit, and up into the short hairs on the back of his scalp. “I could show you, if you like,” he said, voice dropping as he leaned in closer, running his hand up and down the CEO’s neck in a way that made his skin tingle

So that was why he’d come. Armin was certainly inventive if nothing else. He had developed a penchant of late for teasing him, pushing him endlessly when he was in a mood to. It had gone from being unintentional, from Armin not realizing what he was doing or at least not planning anything in advance, to him knowing exactly what buttons to push to get what he wanted. There was always a different method, from playing coy, to intentionally frustrating and arguing with him, usually over little things. Irwin knew why he did it, understood it on some rational level. The blond was trying to entice him, to cause him to lose control so that Irwin would fuck him the way he liked. That didn’t mean it didn’t drive him mad, and that was the whole point of it he supposed.

“This is a place of work,” Irwin told him, feeling the blond’s warm breath on his neck as he leaned in close.

“So what? You’ve never fooled around in here before?”

“No. I can’t afford any such distractions.”

“Is that all I am, then?” Armin murmured with his lips on Irwin’s ear, “A ‘distraction?’” He was pushing it, and he knew it.

“You’re a nuisance,” Irwin said, turning his head to face those expressive blue eyes hovering only centimeters from his own. There was a world of knowing in those eyes, eyes that understood far more than they let on. At the moment, though, there was also desire, darkening the clear blue irises with need.

“But you like it.”

“You should leave.”

“I won’t.”

“Very well.” Armin came willingly when Irwin pulled him close, pressing his lips to the long, pale throat.

“I want you to fuck me over your desk,” Armin said. It was a command. Irwin clenched his teeth and squeezed the young man’s hips until he whimpered.

“You realize that you’re infuriating, yes?”

“Mm-hmm.” The blond gasped as Irwin pushed him away, pressing him back into the edge of the desk. “Irwin, what—,” He stopped speaking when the CEO moved his hands up, gripping the boy’s belt and pulling it loose. A smaller hand reached for him, gripping his forearm as the other braced him on the desk. Irwin opened the front of his jeans and pulled his chair closer, leaning in and pressing his mouth to a slender hip. The hand on his arm moved up to the back of his head, fingers digging into his hair. “Oh, _yes_ ,” Armin hissed, trying to arch his hips forward, but they were held down by a pair of strong hands.

He was already hard. Irwin licked at the head of his cock and Armin squirmed, hands trying to pull his face in closer. “Please,” he whispered, and even in that one plaintive word there was an order. The older man took the cock into his mouth—if Armin wanted it, then he would give it to him. He would make the blond cry his name, make him scream until he was reduced nothing more than a quivering mess.

“Irwin,” he gasped, “Oh, God. It’s s- _ah_!” he curled forward, arms wrapping around the businessman’s shoulders. He was so sensitive. Every time Irwin touched him it seemed like he came undone, and he enjoyed it, reveled in the way he lost himself. As soon as he had what he wanted, he no longer seemed to care whether or not he was in charge of the situation. He let Irwin do as he liked, but by then the older man would have long since lost any modicum of control, and Irwin was a man who strived on his ability to school himself. It was not in his nature, nor to his liking to lose himself. Armin, though, always managed to do or say something that took him aback, that reminded him that this boy was not a meek little bedmate who would do whatever it took to please.

After he came he held onto Irwin’s shoulders, panting and standing on shaky legs. “Oh, damn, that was…God, I need to sit.” The CEO let him fall into his lap, and Armin rested his face in the crook of his neck as he caught his breath. He was so light, so warm, and he always fit so perfectly against the older man’s body. “Hey, Irwin,” he said several minutes later, once he’d stopped breathing so hard. “How do I taste?”

There is was again. Irwin hadn’t been expecting him to say any such thing, and the salacious nature of the question made his loins pulse with need. Armin seemed to expect the kiss, opening his mouth and slipping his tongue past Irwin’s lips to taste himself. He was sweet, every part of him, from his wicked little tongue, to his soft skin, his sweat and his cum. Sweet and salty and he moaned when Irwin held his mouth captive, making sure he got a good, long taste.

There was a hand moving up his thigh, and he didn’t bother to stop it. “You’re the worst,” he said, and he felt Armin grin against his mouth. The blond kissed him again before he slid down between his legs. Yes, he did have a sweet tongue, sharp and sweet, and just as knowing as his eyes. It swept across the head of his cock, and Irwin buried his hands into soft blond locks. He didn’t worry that someone might walk in on them. All he could concentrate on was Armin taking him into his mouth, sucking him down almost into his throat as he massaged the underside of his shaft with that terrible little tongue. He was bobbing his head and stroking with a deft hand, looking up at Irwin with eyes that tested him even now.

The hand was slow, and the mouth was hot. He was humming, and nipping, and he knew how to take his time. When Irwin came, he swallowed every drop until the cock had softened in his mouth. Then he stood up and tried to pull away, tried to play shy again, but Irwin caught him and crushed him in his arms. “You should stop playing these games with me, Armin.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he denied, voice muffled against Irwin’s chest.

“Of course you don’t.” He loosened his grip just enough to let the blond sit up and kiss him again. He found his own taste was slightly bitter, and he wondered if things like that held any significance. “Are you coming over tonight?” he asked.

“No,” Armin said, “I’m going to the movies with my friends.”

“Come over after.”

“Are you sure? It’s probably going to get out pretty late.”

“I’m sure.”

A cheeky little grin spread across his face, and he asked, “Does this mean you like me, Irwin?”

“It means I want you in my bed tonight,” Irwin told. For the second time that day, a strange look flashed across Armin’s face, one that was gone too quickly for him to fully discern, but he thought it almost looked like disappointment.

Armin kissed him on the corner of his mouth, then slipped off his lap. “I’ll see you later, then,” he said, and his tone was light but there was something about him that seemed downcast. It made Irwin wonder again, just what had been the point of this whole visit? What was the point of all Armin’s teasing, and for that matter, why did he allow it to continue?

The answer there was obvious, though he disdained to acknowledge it. It made him think again that it might in both their best interests if he simply called it off right now. Armin paused at the door, not for more than a second, and Irwin felt himself tensing for something he didn’t want to concede. But nothing happened. The boy simply opened the door and slipped out without a word, and Irwin shook himself, regrouping because Armin had once again left his self-control in tatters.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this part is the part that I really had trouble with, it literally took me twenty hours to write. I'm not really happy with the writing, but I've been glaring at it for a while now and I'm just gonna go for it before I spontaneously combust.

The sound of his security system being disarmed awoke him that night. A warning ding accompanied the action, and he sat up abruptly, ignoring the way his back protested the sudden motion. Frozen and tense he listened to the distant sound of the front door opening, and then he heard the quick shuffle of feet as if somebody was running through the penthouse. Romulus’ greeting woof sounded, a certain sign that his master was not in imminent danger. Sure enough, a moment later his bedroom light clicked on and there stood Armin looking wide-eyed and flushed.

“Everything alright?” Irwin asked with a frown.

“Yes,” Armin sighed as if the question annoyed him, then he hurried over and sat on the edge of the bed as he began to undress. Stiff movements and an apprehensive posture belied his obvious unease.

“How was the movie?” the CEO ventured.

“Crappy.”

“Oh? Why?”

“Because it was so scary!” Armin grumbled, kicking off his pants reaching over to hit the remote button for the light. The moment they were shrouded in darkness Irwin felt him dive underneath the covers and then he had an armful of the half-naked boy.

“You don’t like scary movies?”

“ _No_.”

“Then why go see one?”

“I didn’t think it would be _that_ scary,” he muttered defensively, huddling closer and pulling the blanket up over his head, effectively muffling his voice. “Eren wanted to see it, and I just didn’t want to argue with him.”

“ _You_ didn’t want to argue?”

“Shut up. I’m going to have nightmares now, _if_ I can even fall asleep; I don’t need any of your shit.” Irwin felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips despite himself. The boy had a way of endearing himself, that was for certain.

“Which movie was it?”

“That stupid demon haunting one,” Armin said with a shudder, ducking his head underneath Irwin’s chin as the older man wrapped his arms around him.

“Ah, the one with the creepy children?”

“ _Yes_ ,” the blond fairly whimpered. “I don’t want to talk about it, Irwin. Please, I mean it.”

“Now, were the effects any good, or—,”

“Oh my God, you’re doing this on purpose you asshole!” Armin cried as he shoved violently away from Irwin’s chest. “Let go of me!”

“I don’t know what you mean,” the older man denied, pulling the squirming body back against his.

“I’ll bite you, Irwin, I swear to God.”

“Go ahead.” True to his word, Armin bit down on his neck, hard enough to leave a mark but not enough to break the skin. Then came his tongue, tracing over the indentations his teeth had left.

“I have to get up early in the morning, you know,” he mumbled, his breath ghosting across the moistened flesh and sending a stinging tingle rippling through the older man’s body.

“And I don’t?” Irwin knew the point had been conceded when he rolled the boy onto his back, following and finding his mouth in the dark. There was no resistance, and Armin reached up to pull his face in closer, holding onto him as he raised a knee to rub between the CEO’s legs. A nimble little hand slipped up underneath his t-shirt, and Armin’s fingers played across his stomach, warm and knowing just where to touch. Already Irwin’s control was rapidly dwindling, his rationality gradually circling the drain. When he reached for the blond’s hips, planning to lift him up and free him from his underwear, a pang shot through his lower back, grinding this slow descent to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” Armin asked, though Irwin was sure he’d shown no sign of pain. Perhaps he’d grimaced against the blond’s lips, or flinched somehow, which he didn’t like. Showing pain was tantamount admitting to vulnerability, admitting to weakness. That was not something he could normally afford to let slip. But that wasn’t the real issue here. Letting Armin know he was in pain didn’t feel like as much a breach of his defenses as it normally might have. Still…

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Armin asked, propping himself on his elbows and pushing Irwin back. “You’ve seemed like something was bothering you all day. Is it your back?” Or maybe Armin was already so well attuned to him that he’d picked up on something else, some subtler sign that Irwin wasn’t aware of. He liked that even less. How could somebody more than a decade his junior, somebody he’d known for so short a time be so damn _insightful_ when people he’d known his whole life still regarded him as an enigma?

“No, I’m fine, Armin,” he said, hoping he sounded sure of himself and not agitated. Irwin Smith did not feel _agitation_ , of all things.

“Don’t be a baby,” the blond said, “If your back hurts I can rub it for you. I’m good with my hands.” There was a suggestive tilt to the words, but oddly enough they did little to assuage his mounting irritation.

“I said I was fine,” he repeated, words stiff with warning. Any one of his subordinates would have taken that as a sign to back down, to let the issue drop.

But Armin was not his subordinate. Not in any sense of the word. “Why are you being so defensive? Dude, I get back pains too, it’s not that big a deal. I mean, it doesn’t mean you’re weak, or old or anything.” Irwin couldn’t respond. Even in the dark, this boy saw right through him. “Irwin? If something is wrong you can tell me. It’s okay.” There was a soft hand on his face, and he could just make out Armin’s worried expression in the dark. His gentle, comforting tone was anything but.

“I said nothing is wrong, Armin,” he repeated, “Now let it go.” He hadn’t realized how sharp the words came out until he felt that reassuring hand jerk back. Armin shifted away from him, bristling like a startled cat.

“Well…fine. Jesus. Sorry I asked,” he snapped back. Too late, Irwin tried to reach for him. Already he had turned away, moving to lie on his side with his back toward the older man. As if sensing that a hand was reaching out to grasp him, he added in an icy tone, “Goodnight, Irwin.”

Well, perfect. Irwin did not remember the last time he had come so close to losing his temper. He was a reasonable, rational man, not the sort to get riled up. When he met opposition, he would fall back, regroup, and tackle the issue from a different angle. That was what he had been taught to do, what he had always done, and it was why he was where he was. But what was the angle here?

Did it really matter? They were both adults and they knew what this was. Armin had overstepped his bounds, though admittedly Irwin hadn’t acted as logically as he was wont to do.

It is far too late at night to be worrying about this, he reasoned. Some things were more easily dealt with in the light of day, and this was one of them. With that decided he rolled onto his side and fell asleep quite readily. He had long ago trained his mind to take sleep whenever it could get it, no matter the circumstances. Indeed, this night was no different, but for the dreams that flashed through his mind. Images he thought he’d long buried, the sounds of screaming, and a roaring that seemed to expand until it filled every crack and crevice in his brain. Then heat, searing heat, and choking darkness.

Why? It had been so long, so many years since he’d even thought of _that_ , of that _place_. The burning hell he’d been dragged out of, that only he had survived. It was supposed to have been a distant memory, something he had analyzed, accepted, and moved on from. Such a sudden recurrence could not have just come out of nowhere.

When his alarm sounded the next morning he woke feeling groggy rather than refreshed; another first. He sat up, relieved that his back seemed not to argue as much as it had the night before. That was a relief, yes, but the empty spot on the bed beside him was not.

From the bathroom he could hear the hiss of the shower. By the time he made it to the door the water had turned off. When he walked in Armin was wearing a towel, digging in the backpack he toted around with him all of the time. It was wear he kept a spare change of clothes, presumably alongside his other belongings. Irwin considered saying something to him, decided against it, and waited for him to leave. It wasn’t until the blond had retreated to the bedroom to dress that the older man shed his sleeping attire and slipped into the shower.

Not a moment too soon, because the bathroom door creaked open again. A moment later he heard the whir of a hairdryer, something he knew that Armin only used on especially cold mornings. “My hair freezes if I don’t,” he’d explained when Irwin had teased him about it. Time made the memory seem absurd. Irwin was not a man prone to teasing. And since when had he picked up on all these little facets of Armin’s life, of his personality? Armin hated raisins, and would spent twenty minutes picking them out of a bowl of _Raisin_ Bran when there wasn’t anything else he wanted to eat. Armin could recognize a dog he’d seen before, but not its owner. Armin wasn’t afraid of animals large enough to kill him, but he couldn’t handle a horror movie.

The blond had obviously gotten up early in the hopes of avoiding Irwin, but was foiled when he wasn’t able to find his keys. When the older man offered to help look for them, he was told not to worry about it. As it turned out, he’d dropped them in the front hall in his haste to get to bed the night before, and he spent several minutes muttering to himself about it while ensuring he wasn’t forgetting anything else.

“Well, bye,” Armin said, stuffing his feet into his shoes with a disgruntled expression before hopping up and heading toward the door.

“Wait,” Irwin said, and for once the boy listened, freezing in place and turning slowly back to face him.

“You don’t have to apologize, if that’s what you’re trying to do,” he said, meeting Irwin’s steady scrutiny with resignation.

“I wasn’t.” Armin stiffened this time when Irwin approached—he hadn’t been this defensive in weeks. Not since the time they’d stood here in his living room after Irwin had come home and found the boy asleep on his couch. Something about the cautious way the blond was watching him didn’t sit right with the CEO, but he shoved that feeling away. Now wasn’t the time for sentimentality. “Armin,” he paused and took a breath, “I think—,”

“You were mumbling in your sleep,” the blond interjected, blurting his words like somebody grasping at straws.

“I…what?” Caught off guard again by somebody who gave dogs baths for a living.

“You were mumbling…you sounded upset. Irwin, if something…if you need to tell me something you can. I don’t know why you’re mad at me, but I know it doesn’t have anything to do with your back.” He ended with a hopeful look, sprinkled with a dash of desperation.

“You know that, do you?” Irwin felt the anger in his voice, but couldn’t place it. There were too many catalysts, too many things he was trying not to think about. Thirty-five years old, and he was coming undone at the hands of a boy who looked like a strong breeze might knock him over.

“Just tell me. Tell me what I did. Tell me what’s _wrong_ ,” Armin implored. He was reaching up, reaching for him, probably to smooth his lapels, or straighten his tie, or something else innocuous. Irwin caught those thin wrists in his hands and pushed them back.

“You seem to have misinterpreted our relationship, Armin,” he said, hearing the familiar dispassion his words had been lacking lately. “You are not my lover, and I am not given to discussing my personal issues with the men that I bring to my bed.” The blond’s jaw worked, and his fists clenched as resolute eyes bore down into his own.

“L-let me go,” he finally managed, voice barely a breath. Irwin released the grip he’d had on Armin’s wrists—he hadn’t held them very tightly, so he knew the wounded look on the younger man’s face had little to do with physical pain. He stepped back, expression betraying every nuance of emotion he was feeling at the moment, from sadness to anger to defeat.

“You should leave. You’ll be late for work,” Irwin said coolly. Armin jerked back as if he’d been slapped, massaging his wrist and regarding the older man with wide, startled eyes. Then, abruptly and without a word, he turned and hurried for the door on wobbly feet, moving as if his mind was reeling. Irwin watched his retreating back until the door closed behind it, then he released a breath. It was done then. He leaned over to reach for his suit jacket, plucking it from the back of the sofa where he’d left it, and winced at the rippling pain that shot up his spine.

_It was the right thing to do_ , he told himself as he straightened. There was no debating it. Armin was just a kid, and Irwin hadn’t been doing him any favors by leading him on. It had been stupid of him to seek the boy out in the first place. He wasn’t even entirely sure why he’d done it—because he’d wanted to fuck him again? Surely that couldn’t have been the only reason. He certainly hadn’t done it for Romulus’ sake.

The dog was watching him now, peeking out at him from the back hall with a doleful expression. Perfect. Now he was being judged by his dog. Sleeping with Armin had been a mistake. Looking for him afterward had been an even bigger one. _Admit it_ , he thought, _the boy got to you_. And how long had it been since anyone had been able to do that? That was why he’d gone through all the trouble of figuring out which salon the boy worked at; he’d been curious, his interest piqued in a way it never had been before. Even if his surface intention hadn’t been to bring Armin back to his bed, that reason had been mixed in there somewhere.

And look where it all had ended. He’d acted like a horny teenager, following his dick to something that had only led to trouble for them both.

Now it was done and over with. There was no use dwelling on it. Briefcase in hand, Irwin followed in the blond’s footsteps. He was going to be late, and he’d have to hear about it from Levi, which he was not looking forward to on today of all days. When he turned to lock the door behind him he stepped on something, and when he looked down to see what it was there was a glint of metal. An especially sharp pain lanced through him when he knelt to pick up the spare key to his penthouse. Armin had stopped long enough to remove it from his keychain and leave it on the floor where Irwin was sure to find it. He stood and held the little piece of metal in his hand. Something about the cool piece of brass resting in the palm of his hand cemented the deal in his mind. Armin wasn’t coming back.

“You know, if anyone else was late to work as often as you are then they’d have been fired ages ago,” Levi said to him an hour later. Normally Irwin might have made some unconcerned reply about how the boss can set his own hours, but today he was in no mood.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he said instead, “What do you want?”

A subtle arch of his brow was the only indication Levi gave of being taken aback. Then he heaved a sigh and dropped a manila folder on Irwin’s desk. “The board called a meeting today. One of the old bastards has been sniffing around, and he’s gotten wind that something untoward is going on.” He jabbed a finger at the folder and said, “In there is everything you’ll need to counter him and untie the knots in their adult diapers.”

“Wonderful,” Irwin said as he opened the folder and began flipping through the sheets of Levi’s lies. It would be for the best to keep the board of directors out of this investigation for as long as they possibly could. Much like any collective group of old men they would rather sit around arguing with one another over how to deal with a situation than to actually do anything of use. Irwin couldn’t afford the distraction, and neither could his company.

“You aren’t feeling under the weather, are you?” Levi asked, looking askance at the CEO over his desk.

“No. Why?” Irwin said. If Levi had noticed something was awry, then who else was going to? Perhaps he’d have done better to wait until the weekend to deal with Armin, but if he had he might not have done anything about it at all.

“You seem…foggy. And if you’re coming down with something then I’m going to have to take a bath in Purell tonight. I told you that boy was going to get you sick,” he said with a look of disgust.

“I’m not sick, Levi,” Irwin told him with a long-suffering sigh, “And you don’t need to worry about Armin anymore, so I’d appreciate it if you’d let the matter drop.”

“Ah,” his officer of operations pursed his lips together, frowning more deeply than usual, “So you ended things with him? That’s good. Maybe now you’ll be able to focus on doing your damn job.” Irwin gave no reply to that, trying instead to concentrate on the contents of the folder. The words seemed to blur together, and his back pulsed. Levi made an annoyed noise, and he looked up to see the other man staring down at him with something that was shockingly akin to concern. “You really look like shit, Irwin. I could delay the meeting if you like. The geriatrics can wait another day.”

For a moment he suffered an extreme internal dilemma. If he postponed the meeting the board would get antsy, and when they were impatient it led to trouble. But he thought if had to face those meddlesome old misers today then he might _really_ lose his temper. “Whatever you think is best,” he said, flipping the folder shut and leaning back in his chair.

“You could take the day off as well.”

“I have work to do.”

“I think I can handle things for one day, Irwin. Don’t be stubborn; you haven’t taken a day off in years. And if you don’t leave I’m going to send that Hoover boy in here every hour to ask you stupid questions.”

Irwin almost asked if he was serious, but he didn’t need to. Levi didn’t make idle threats. “Very well,” he said with as dignified an air as he could muster. Conceivably it would be best to take a day to collect himself. He would be better off in the long run for doing so.

“You keep going all tense when you move,” Levi said as he stood and collected his things. “If your back is bothering you again you should go see a doctor.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“You know old injuries can come back to bite you in the ass if you don’t keep an eye on them. At least go see a masseuse or something. There’s one on Fifth Street that gives happy endings. Have the Sasquatch out there make an appointment for you,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder toward the door. No doubt Bertholdt was out at his desk diverting phone calls with all the stammering grace he usually displayed.

“Levi,” Irwin said warningly, and unlike Armin the other man took the hint.

“Alright, settle down. I’ll tell the board you were called away on some other matter,” Levi said with a roll of his eyes. “Now get lost.”

Irwin heeded that much at least, but he didn’t ask Bertholdt to make any appointments. He paused at the boy’s desk just long enough to tell him his services wouldn’t be needed for the day if he’d like to go home, and then he left.

When he arrived home he found Romulus lying around looking dejected, and was reminded that he had effectively cut off his dog’s only ticket to the outside world. “You probably want to go for a walk right about now, don’t you?” he asked, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen the usually lumbering dog move so quickly in his life. He was standing by the door and crying within three seconds, so Irwin had no choice but to round up his leash and take him out.

It had only taken two months for his dog to become completely accustomed to being walked by Armin. The boy tended to let him wander, where Irwin preferred to keep the leash short and make the mastiff heel. “If you don’t stop pulling I’m taking you home,” he said as Romulus looked up at him with woeful, pleading eyes. “That doesn’t work on me. Now _heel_.” Reluctantly the mastiff fell in line beside him, and Irwin wished once again that he’d never let Armin into his bed in the first place.

The pair found their way to an old bus stop bench where Irwin was dismayed to find he had to sit and rest. _Maybe I_ should _go see a doctor_ , he thought as Romulus sat down beside him and rested his giant blocky head on his master’s knee. One time he had caught Armin telling Romulus to behave for “daddy,” which Irwin had found unseemly. A dog was a pet, after all, not a baby. “’Master’ makes it sound like he’s your slave,” the blond had said, wrinkling his nose in distaste after the older man had corrected him.

“Do you think I’ve made a mistake?” Irwin said to the dog. Romulus’ only response was to give a short wag of his tail. “Armin,” he said experimentally, and had to abruptly sit up straight as the mastiff bounced to his feet, tail whipping back and forth with a hopeful look on his face. “He’s not _here_. Sit.” Romulus whined, and looked around expectantly. “You do realize you belong to me, yes?” Another whine accompanied by big, sad dog-eyes. _Traitor_.

It struck him that he was sitting on a public bench with an aching back, talking to a dog and feeling generally miserable. Yes, miserable. What kind of a man was he? Not the sort who was nearly as in control of himself as he had thought he was. Nor the kind who enjoyed intimidating those who didn’t deserve it. Armin had looked genuinely frightened, not just startled, when Irwin had grabbed him. What had gotten into him? He could be cruel he knew, but he’d never lost his temper to the point of physically imposing himself on another person.

Guilt crashed over him like a wave. It was ferocious and crushing remorse the likes of which he hadn’t felt in nearly a decade, and it had only taken him three hours to succumb to it. At least he hadn’t forgone his ability to be decisive. “We’re going home,” he said, giving Romulus an affectionate slap on his broad neck.

x

Night had fallen, and it was late. Irwin had considered it prudent to wait; Armin worked all day, and there was no guarantee that he’d come straight home after. Therefore, the hour was well past ten PM by the time he parked in front of the younger man’s apartment building. It was a cramped little place, full of cramped little living spaces. Irwin had never seen Armin’s apartment, but he had known where he lived, and knew it was small due to the blond’s occasional complaints.

Armin’s car was parked down the block, but he couldn’t figure out which windows were his. A few panes still burned with light, indicating that the occupants remained awake. _Arlert, A.,_ lived in apartment 2C, but he didn’t answer right away when Irwin pressed the buzzer. “Who is it?” his voice crackled over the intercom just as Irwin was about to press the button again.

It would be better not to be demanding. “Armin, I wish to speak with you.”

“It’s late,” the blond said after nearly a minute. Irwin could almost sense his mind working.

“I realize that. I don’t mean to impose, but—,” He was cut off by the sharp buzz of the door being unlocked, and he had to hurry to yank it open. Armin was waiting for him on the next floor up, standing in his open doorway. He was wearing a t-shirt and checkered pajama pants, his cheeks were rosy and his hair was damp, as if he’d just gotten out of the shower. Irwin disdained to see that his eyes were red and bleary, as if he’d recently been crying. That was the only sign of distress that he could see, however.

“May I come in?” the older man asked.

“We can talk here,” Armin said with a wary edge.

“I’d rather speak with you in private,” Irwin said. The blond stared up at him, gaze unwavering, shrewd and fierce.

Just when Irwin was certain that he was going to be asked to leave, Armin relented with a sigh. “Fine,” he said, expression and posture relaxing. He stood aside for the older man, and sped over to a sagging little sofa after shutting and locking the door behind him. Irwin shrugged out of his coat, watching as the blond sat himself primly on the edge of the cushions.

“I want to apologize to you, Armin,” he said as he lowered himself onto the sofa beside him.

“Well, you should,” was the succinct reply. Now the boy was refusing to look at him, staring down at his hands instead where they rested in his lap.

Irwin heaved a soft, wry laugh. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked. Armin glanced up at him, then away again.

“Just my pride,” he mumbled. When Irwin reached for him he jumped, but let his hands be taken. He watched as the older man raised them to his mouth and pressed his lips against each wrist in turn. “I’m fine,” he said, “I mean it. You didn’t hurt me, Irwin.”

“So that forgives me putting my hands on you in anger?”

“I never said I forgave you. I just said I’m okay,” Armin said stiffly, pulling his hands away. Irwin let them go. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?” he said, curling his fingers together, “I just…I was trying so hard. I thought if I made you want me enough that you’d change your mind about us.”

“I do want you, Armin,” he said. He knew it now, had known it before, but he was an idiot, and Armin deserved to know why.

“It’s kind of late for that isn’t it?” the blond asked with a baleful glare. Irwin couldn’t help himself. This time Armin didn’t flinch when he reached up and brushed the hair back out of his eyes. Instead, a bright red flush crept into his cheeks and his nostrils flared as his breathing intensified.

“If you really mean that then I’ll go,” Irwin said, “But I want to show you something first.”

“O-okay,” Armin agreed. Those eyes never left him as he got to his feet and began to unbutton his shirt. “Uh, I’ve seen you without your shirt on before,” the blond said, expression becoming increasingly alarmed and blush growing as he watched.

“Not entirely,” Irwin said, and Armin’s eyes widened slightly as the realization dawned on him that it was true. The older man had never fully removed his clothing in front of him. He could almost hear Armin internally berating himself for never noticing something so obvious. Now he watched with the slightest scowl, focusing as if afraid he might miss something. Irwin felt pinned under that scrutiny. He discarded his button-up on the sofa, and then followed with his a-shirt.

A gasp sounded as he turned, presenting his back to the attentive young man. “Oh, Irwin,” he heard the blond whisper. The scaring on his back was extensive. The blast that had nearly killed him had been obstructed by a window and a partial wall. If he had received the full brunt of it he would have blown to pieces. As it was, the glass and shrapnel embedded in his flesh had resulted in months of physical therapy, and years of pain. “How…?”

“I was in the marines,” he answered, “Toward the end of my tour of duty, my unit was in Fallujah.”

“What happened?” Armin’s voice was a whisper.

“We were scouting a possible weapon cache. There was a high probability of ambush, but it was my decision to go ahead with the mission.”

“And it went badly?”

“Yes. One of my men triggered an explosive. It tore the building apart,” he couldn’t bring himself to turn around. He didn’t want to see Armin’s thoughts on his face—he was so open with his expressions, so honest. How could Irwin have misread his intentions? “I was outside, but the blast still nearly killed me. I woke up a week later in a hospital in Germany, and they told me my entire squad had been wiped out.”

For a minute after he finished speaking there was only silence; then behind him the sofa creaked. A moment later the older man felt a warm hand pressing gently and hesitantly against his flesh. “Is this…,” Armin paused to collect his thoughts, “Is this supposed to scare me or something? Is this supposed to make me think you’re too damaged for me to want you?”

“It’s an explanation. You thought I was mad at you, but I wasn’t. I was angry with myself, and I took it out on you. My actions are inexcusable, but you deserved to understand.”

Another hand joined the first, along with the soft pressure of the blond’s forehead leaning into him. The hands slid around his waist and met in the center of his chest. “You…you could have told me.”

“I know.”

“So why didn’t you?” There was an accusation there, and confusion that made Irwin’s heart twist.

“I haven’t spoken of this to anyone in years. I wanted to put it behind me because it always made me feel powerless. I confused that sentiment with the way you make me feel.” Armin’s grip on him tightened.

“You know that just makes me want to protect you,” he said. To somebody else it might have sounded absurd, but Irwin believed that he could.

“Does that mean you forgive me?”

“Don’t push it, Smith,” Armin murmured against his skin. Irwin turned in his arms and returned the gesture, embracing the younger man tightly. “Mmm, you’re crushing me,” the blond said, tilting his head back. He was so red, his cheeks hot with blush, his lips pink and his eyes heated. When Irwin bent to kiss him he tugged the man closer, pushing up on his toes and meeting him with an open mouth. His lips were demanding, his tongue hot and slippery, and Irwin was happy to let him have his way. They were pressed flush together, and if the older man was being honest with himself then he knew this was what he wanted. Armin. He didn’t care about the age difference. He didn’t care about much at all except for the young man clasped in his arms.

There were deft hands tugging at his belt, and he pushed the blond back to help him pull his shirt off. “The walls here are paper thin,” Armin blurted as the obstructive cloth came up over his head.

“Good.” He watched the boy swallow thickly as he reached out and grabbed Irwin’s hand. The bedroom he was lead to was small, but tidy. The bed was equally so. Armin was already kicking his pants off, and Irwin followed suit, watching as the boy yanked open a drawer on his bedside table.

“Oh, shit! I don’t have any condoms!” he cried. “Fuck!”

“It’s alright, Armin,” the older man said, taking a seat on the edge of the little bed and pulling the blond into his lap.

“No, it’s not,” Armin argued. He was fairly _shaking_ with frustration, his eyes clouded over with desire as he said, “I _need_ you. Just…fuck it; we don’t need to use one. Do we?” Irwin kissed him again, and he felt Armin fumbling for his hand, shoving something smooth and tubular into his palm.

“No condoms but you have lube?” he asked into the blond’s ear.

“It’s for…personal use. Shut up.” Irwin smiled into his shoulder, and tried to maneuver him onto the bed so that he was lying on his stomach, but Armin quickly forestalled him. “No, no, no. Your back, remember? I’ll be on top. I mean ph-physically, not—Just lie on your back.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“ _Please_. You almost broke up with me over it,” Armin said with a roll of his eyes as he squirmed off of the older man’s lap. Deciding that it would be best just to indulge him, Irwin did as he was told, hissing as the blond immediately straddled his hips and he felt his cock brushing between Armin’s thighs. Then he was being kissed, and he held Armin against him, hooking his arms around the boy’s back as he unscrewed the top off the lube.

“Nn-mm!” the blond moaned against Irwin’s mouth, biting down on his lower lip as the older man spread him open. “Oh, _God_.” He arched into the way Irwin curled his fingers with a sob, as if it had been weeks since he’d last been touched rather than just a day or two. There was an aching friction between them where their cocks were trapped, and Irwin hurried to prepare the younger man for him as quickly as he dared. Because he needed Armin as well, and maybe more than Armin needed him. The weight of him, the way his lithe body felt curved into Irwin’s, the heat inside of him—

“Are you ready?” Irwin fairly growled, his cock throbbing with need against Armin’s stomach.

“Y-yes. Yes.” The blond sat up again, pushing up on unsteady arms and reaching back as he raised his hips to guide Irwin into him. It was like being dipped in molten fire. Irwin felt the groan bubbling up out of his throat as he grasped the younger man’s hips with bruising force. There were no protests from Armin, not while he was lowering himself still, adjusting to the length that was now stretching him open. “Irwin,” he gasped once he was fully housed, “Is that…that’s okay?”

“That’s perfect, Armin.” With those encouraging words, any and all other questions became irrelevant. He began to move his hips, raising up and pushing back down and moaning a little with each breath. Irwin held his hips, but didn’t move them, giving the blond free rein to do as he liked. It felt so good inside of him that it didn’t matter as long as he didn’t stop. “Good. That’s good,” he said as the younger man picked up speed. He was all heat inside, all perfectly wet and wonderfully constricting. When he tightened up Irwin’s vision swam, and when he cried out because he’d found his own prostate the older man shifted beneath him, angling his hips to help him find it again more easily.

“Irwin,” he panted, “Irwin.” He was getting louder and louder. The older man wanted him to scream. “S-stop,” he protested as Irwin began thrusting up into him, “Nnn-no your—your ba-aaghhh! Unnhh, right there!” Armin leaned forward, planting his hands on either side of Irwin’s chest as he was pounded up into. The bed was rattling dangerously, clanging against the wall, but neither of them could bring themselves to care. All Irwin cared about was making this boy want him and only him, tonight and from now on.

“Armin, look at me,” he said, voice thick and hoarse. The blond’s face was screwed up tight in the frenzy of their passion, but he managed with what seemed like a great effort to pry open his eyes. Once they were, they locked onto Irwin’s with all the intensity he could muster. From far away he noted that the blond was now stroking himself, the movements of his hands as desperate and jerky as those of their hips had become. Armin’s hair clung damply to his forehead, eyes heavy lidded and blinking away perspiration. He was breathless and sweating and beautiful.

When his eyes went wide, Irwin realized he must have said it out loud, though he couldn’t remember the word passing his lips. It was true though. From his silky straw colored hair, to his clear, sharp blue eyes, and his graceful little hands and his scars and skin, his wit and his words and his unpredictability and everything else. He was beautiful. Before he could fully process what Irwin had said about him, though, Armin came, squeezing tight around him with a shout of ecstasy as he spilled his seed across the older man’s chest. That was his undoing, and he could recall little else aside from the way he bucked up erratically into the boy until he released his own orgasm with some completely undignified noise of pleasure.

The next thing he remembered was Armin mumbling some nonsense into his chest about not being able to face his neighbors in the morning. “What if one of them recognizes you?” he said, though he didn’t seem to be able to summon the appropriate amount of grouchiness.

“I’ll wear a mask,” Irwin told him, running a hand through his soft locks.

“Don’t be dumb,” Armin muttered sleepily. He shifted, pulling himself up so that he was eye-level with the older man. “Did you mean what you said?”

“About the mask?” he asked teasingly.

“No, you—! About what you said before.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t,” Irwin assured him gently. Armin considered this, then with a satisfied little sigh he flopped back down, burying his nose in the older man’s neck.

“We should fight more often,” he said into Irwin’s ear. “That is, if your back can handle it, old man. Ow! Jeez, don’t pinch me!” he said with an indignant pout, rubbing the spot on his ass where Irwin had done just that.

“Don’t call me ‘old.’ That just hurts my feelings.” The blond scoffed as Irwin rolled onto his side, pulling him close and tugging the blanket up to cover them on the narrow bed.

“I’ll rub your back for you tomorrow,” Armin said grudgingly as he reached around the older man. If it had been anyone else, Irwin would not have allowed it, but Armin did as he liked no matter what the older man said about it. He traced the puckered little scars with deft fingers, and said, “I’m sorry for what happened to you.”

“There’s no reason for you to be.”

“But I am. It must have been scary. I can’t even handle a movie, and you had to do… _that_. So I’m sorry.” Irwin pressed a kiss into his hair and hugged him tight. Armin might have been a kid, he might be from a different social class, and he was certainly mouthy and a smartass. But he had to be worth a shot. For Irwin Smith, right now that was more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I just reread this and jfc I made Armin such a dirty birdy. xD His seduction techniques are just very intentionally lacking in subtlety.


End file.
